Stone Hearts
by Whitewingsonfire
Summary: They were in love. Sometimes it was a sick and twisted kind of love, but a love all the same. But death doesn't discriminate and at least one of them was destined to die. The 74th Hunger Games from the POV of Clove & Cato. M for violence and lemons.
1. Chapter 1  Clove

**A/N: This is my very first author's note for my very first fanfic. I'm new at this so any reviews, advice, and critiques will be greatly appreciated. This first chapter might seem a little short but more will follow soon. I hope you enjoy it!**

**Chapter One – Clove**

I feel the whoosh of air by my ear, see the fist I just dodged fly past my head in my peripheral vision. I duck another swing and manage a quick jab to the girl's solarplexus with my elbow before she can strike again. She staggers back, her face angry and contorted in pain. From my crouched position I smile at her, a leering and taunting smile that turns her anger into fury.

A quick glance around the training room tells me that everyone is watching us; the Master Trainer staring intently while his assistant takes notes, the other District 2 Career trainees showing various amounts of amusement and annoyance, Cato. He's trying to appear indifferent, and I'm probably the only one who can see the hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. His stunning blue eyes are trained on me and they're the only ones I care about. Not that I need to impress him.

A ragged huff from the trainee I'm squared off against brings my attention back to our skirmish. She's much bigger than I am but I'm small and agile. _Small but dangerous,_ Cato always teases me. He's right though, I am dangerous. Some have even called me crazy. I've proved it repeatedly over the many years I've trained with all the others to become a Career Tribute. At sixteen, I'm not old enough by District 2 standards to volunteer for the games but that hasn't stopped me from outmatching nearly every other girl in my class. They hate me for it, especially the older girls. The reaping for the seventy-fourth Hunger Games is just days away and the eighteen-year-olds don't stand a chance of being chosen to represent District 2 if they let themselves get bested by a younger opponent.

Like this girl in front of me, Hipolita. She's eighteen and like all the rest she's just dying to earn the honor of becoming a tribute, hoping she can win the games and make mommy and daddy oh so proud. I'm the only thing standing in her way and she's barely been able to touch me. I smile again, a cruel smile that sends her into a blind rage. She charges at me but I'm ready for her and in seconds she's face down on the cold mat of the training room. The sharp points of my knees dig into her back and I've got her right arm caught behind her in a tight grip, effectively pinning her to the ground. I allow myself a short triumphant laugh. She's so weak and if I wanted to I could break her.

I could do it. With a simple twist I could snap her arm like a twig and revel in the sound of bones breaking. I get that feeling again. The bloodlust rises up through my body burning hot in my veins, blocking out everything else till all I see is red. My fingers twitch with a life of their own, dying to crush the limb they hold captive. My victim writhes and screams out in pain beneath me and it only makes me want to break her more. _Just a quick twist and– _

"Enough!"

The Master Trainer steps forward, calling an end to the match. For a brief moment, I consider ignoring him. I've never been very good with following the rules. How else would I get to spill any blood? But eventually I shoot a fierce glower his way before reluctantly climbing off of Hipolita.

"Well done, Clove," the Master claps briefly as I walk across the floor to rejoin the line of trainees. Some of the others clap as well. Most of them don't.

I have to walk past a gaggle of older girls who are making a big show of crossing their arms and completely ignoring me. I hate them. They're annoying, chittering idiots and I wish I could snap their necks and put them out of their misery. Especially that one. Aria. From under blonde bangs her blue eyes are glaring at me with a special kind of hate and I return it in kind. She's a favorite with the trainers and will most likely be the one chosen to be this year's tribute. She'd beaten me today, but it wouldn't have happened if I'd had my knives. There isn't another trainee alive who can outmatch my skills with a knife, but hand-to-hand isn't my strong suit. Aria must still be reveling in her victory because she's still watching me when she whispers something under her breath to her friends and they cackle in agreement. I barely caught the last few words, "_little monkey."_

I want to rip her face off. But I'd be punished for sure so I settle for walking right up to her and cupping my hand against her check before she can react. An ugly blue and purple bruise is forming just under her eye, courtesy of my knee to her face just hours ago. "Why Aria, that's turning such a lovely color. I'm sure your prep team will be able to find a dress that matches it perfectly." She jerks away from me as if I've burned her, her face now red with anger and embarrassment, making her look even more ridiculous.

With a dark smirk I stride down the rest of the line and take my place next to Cato. I'm staring straight ahead, still glowering, but I can feel his eyes burning into me. Even in my rage-fogged mind they make me shiver. I want to reach for his hand but I can't, not yet.

After a few more fights the trainers huddle together for a moment before assembling in front of the trainees. After days of competition, they're ready to announce the names of those who will volunteer to be this year's tributes.

For the boys, Cato Apollo. There was never any doubt. He stands tall and perfectly muscled, sporting his trademark cocky smirk as the others congratulate him. He's strong, smart, handsome, and ruthless, and the things he can do with a sword… I know my usual scowl has been replaced with a smile and I'm beaming up at him with so much pride because he's beautiful. And he's mine. After accepting all of the other trainee's praises he glances my way with a brief smile just for me.

For the girls, Aria Flavian. Of course. She smiles her stupid head off and her friends squeal themselves into a tizzy. Whatever. At least now she'll die in the arena and I'll never have to see her again.

Cato will win the Hunger Games, come back to District 2 a victor, and we'll finally have everything we ever wanted. We can finally be together.


	2. Chapter 2  Cato

**AN: Thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed so far. This chapter is from Cato's POV. His voice was a little harder for me to write than Clove's so please let me know what you think. Also, a little citrus in this chapter. Yay! Enjoy!**

**Chapter 2 - Cato**

I know I'm still smiling like crazy but who cares? I've been waiting for this for years. Years of fighting and training and slaving away have finally paid off and I can finally have my year in the arena and become a victor. Everyone's congratulating me, and damn right. This year is mine.

The trainers have finally dismissed us for the day and there's more cheering, laughing, and back-slapping. The room is charged with excitement and everyone around me is in high spirits, even Clove. There's a rare and genuine smile on her face and I smile back twice as big. I can feel her at my side and I can't stand not touching her for another minute. I try to seem casual as I hug my arm around her small shoulders and when no one seems to be looking I brush my lips against her ear and teasingly whisper, "Hey babe." She elbows me in the ribs with a good-natured smile for our audience but there's a reproachful glint in her grey eyes. _I know, I know; not here_. I resist the urge to roll my eyes but I know she's right. As far as everyone else is concerned we're just two friends sharing a laugh, and that's the way it has to be.

"Cato!"

Aria chooses this moment to run up to us. I release Clove and immediately miss her warmth but Aria is talking a mile a minute and I have to concentrate to seem interested in what she's saying. As usual, she gives Clove the slightest glare before completely ignoring her.

Aria's always been nice enough to me and now that we're both volunteers, we'll be partners in the games. I might have to kill her in the end, but for now we smile at each other and trade congratulations and tips for the arena. As we talk, Aria is slowly leaning closer to me and now she's doing that thing where she bats her eyes and not-so-discreetly rests her hand on my arm. I know I must be imagining things but I swear I hear a growling sound coming from my side. Aria's laughing loudly now and sliding her hand down my arm to clasp my hand. There it is again, that sound, only it's getting louder. A quick glance in the noise's direction confirms my suspicions. Clove is nearly shaking with rage and there's an absolutely murderous glint in her eye. Her jaw is clenched so tight in a growl I'm afraid she's going to hurt herself and, uh oh, her fingers are starting to do that twitching thing…. _Oh, she's pissed. _

Aria is oblivious. She has no idea that in seconds Clove will be at her throat, ripping it out with her bare hands. I estimate I've got only seconds before the bloodbath begins and my future partner needs to be replaced, so with a hurriedly mumbled "Thanks Aria, I'll see you at the reaping" I throw my arm back around Clove and sweep her out of the training room.

I had the element of surprise on my side enough to get Clove out the main door and into the first hallway, but now she's regained her senses and the bloodlusting monster that lives inside of her is fighting me to go back to tear Aria to pieces. She's screaming and cursing up a storm and I have to throw her over my shoulder so I can drag her further into the training complex, away from staring eyes. She's practically punching me in the head now, and I know I should be angry or annoyed so I must be crazy because I'm smiling like an idiot. I love it when she's like this.

I finally find a darkened hallway far enough from the main rooms that I'm ready to put Clove down. She's not thrashing about anymore but she's still yelling obscenities and glaring daggers at me that I've long since learned not to let faze me. I take in the image of this slight girl with the demon inside of her. Her long, dark hair is wild, disheveled from the last few hours spent sparing and fighting. Sweat from the days exertions have made her training suit cling to her slender yet curvy body. She's covered in bruisers, a cut above her eye and her lip split from a hit to the face that hardly slowed her down. Her small hands are clutched into fists and, despite their delicate appearance, I know they have taken lives. The light dusting of freckles across her cheeks adds a comically deceiving innocence to her face. Her grey eyes are dark and smoldering with a murderous fire and a desire to kill.

She's the sexiest thing I've ever seen and I don't know how I made it to this hallway without ripping her clothes off.

I'm hardly paying attention to the string of protests she's still throwing at me and she's not even remotely paying attention to me stalking towards her.

"…._kill the bitch for touching you!…_"

I slowly back her up against a wall of the hallway, but she continues her tantrum.

"…_cut off her hands if she…"_

I put my hands against the wall on either side of her head, but she's still too lost in a rage to notice.

"…_if you don't kill her in the games I'll_…"

I lean close to press my lips to her ear, letting a warm whisper finally bring her back to reality. "You're so cute when you're jealous."

Clove _hates_ when I call her cute. Hates it even more when I tease her. For the first time she pauses in her tirade just long enough to fix me with a dark glare and raise her hand to hit me but I catch her arm before she gets the chance and just for good measure trap both her arms above her head. I answer her dark glare with a triumphant smile. Well, now I've finally got her attention. "There, you're mine now," I'm smirking at her and I know it's ticking her off which only makes me smile more. She struggles against my tight hold and opens her mouth to protest again but I bring my lips crashing down onto hers in a bruising kiss.

For all her struggling, Clove doesn't hesitate a moment before her lips begin to move against mine. She's kissing me back with anger and want rolled into one and the taste of her is intoxicating. I press my body flush against hers, pinning her roughly to the wall and when she gasps from the contact I slide my tongue past her lips. Our tongues dance together as they have so many times before and I'm not sure I'll ever be able to stop but, then I taste blood. I pull my lips away from hers and her brows immediately knit together in annoyance. The cut on her lip is bleeding freely and she doesn't even seem to care. She's looking at me with those dark eyes full of murderous desires but under the darkness is a smoldering lust. I lean down to her mouth again, slowly licking blood away from her cut lip.

"Cato…" Her lips part in a quiet moan for me and I'm instantly hard. I don't know if I'll ever get used to that; how quickly and easily she can make me want her. "Do you have any idea what you do to me, Clove?" I breathe against her neck. I know she does.

I finally release her arms and she grabs my face in her hands, giving me a cheeky grin before forcing me to kiss her again. Not that I need any forcing. I can feel her anger still lingering. Her hands are grabbing roughly at my shoulders, nails pressing into my skin, and when I grab her hips to lift her up she immediately wraps her legs in a vice grip around my waist. I can feel the heat of her through the pants of my training suit and the contact works a deep moan from my throat. Her kisses are so demanding they're causing her lip to bleed again. The acrid taste of her blood mingles into our kisses and I can feel a pleasured shiver run though her body that's mirrored in my own. This is why we work. Our hunger for blood is matched only by our hunger for each other.

What a twisted pair we are.

Once we get started we can hardly stop touching each other and our hands are everywhere grabbing, stroking, tugging. Our training suits are halfway off before the dull sound of a distant door opening and closing stops us cold. We're frozen in this compromising position. Clove's legs around my waist, her hands buried into my suit. My hands grabbing her ass, lips against her neck. We trade a brief look of worry. We can't be caught together like this.

"Fuck!" I curse under my breath, finally acknowledging how stupid I was to start molesting her in a public hallway.

My family would never allow us to be together. My parents are high-ranking officials; my mother the director of the top weapons factory in District 2, my father the Head Peacekeeper of our district. Both of my older brothers trained as Career tributes. One died in the games and the other, when he wasn't chosen as a volunteer, quickly rose through the ranks of Peacekeepers. My family has a long line of Hunger Games victors. My aunt, my uncle, my grandparents. So, those are my options; Peacekeeper, victor, or death. But there's really only one choice. If I want to be with her.

Clove's parents are stonecutters. _Were_ stonecutters. Her mother died when she was young and her father was a violent drunk who beat her and worse. Clove killed him when she was thirteen. I was there. The precision of her knifework on her father's mutilated corpse was enough for the training academy to take notice of a girl from the quarries who otherwise would never have even been considered for such an honor. The day she was accepted into the academy was admittedly one of the happiest of my life. As fellow trainees, now at least we could be friends without fear of retribution. Friends, but certainly never lovers.

I think they would like Clove, my parents, if they would meet her. Her fire, her ruthlessness reminds me of theirs. Violence is almost synonymous with victory in my family. Nothing, however, trumps our pride. Even Clove's status as a Career would not keep my parents from scoffing at the very idea of having to interact with a stonecutter's daughter. If they ever found out about us I'm certain they would arrange it so Clove disappeared forever. We've had to keep this a secret for a very long time. That's why I have only one option; to win the games. As a victor, I will have as much power as my parents and I can be with whom I choose. The money, the power, the glory, and her. It will all be mine in less than a few weeks.

Clove and I move to untangle ourselves from one another and re-dress, adjusting ourselves to hide any evidence of our indiscretion. It's a bit silly though; we looked pretty messed up to begin with. Another door closes somewhere much closer and the sound echoes through our hallway signaling it's time to go.

Before she can leave, my arms wrap possessively around Clove's waist and it's hard to let her go but eventually I steal one last kiss and release her. "I'll see you tonight? My room?" I ask. She nods and gives me her trademark devilish smile before running off down the hall. After a few moments I smile back and leave in the opposite direction.

Hours later, the door to my dorm room slides open quietly and she comes to me in the darkness. As always, I ask if anyone saw her, she murmurs a 'no,' and those are the only words we share that night. After being interrupted earlier, we have no patience for slow caresses or soft words and our love making is all demanding kisses, rough touches, and pillow-muffled cries.


End file.
